


Crack At The Moon

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, I'm sorry for my sins, Masturbation, Other, papa iii jacks it to the moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Summary: Papa iii jacks off to the moon. I have no explanation. I was coerced to write this. I'm so sorry.
Relationships: papa emeritus iii/the moon
Kudos: 9





	Crack At The Moon

”Papa, have you seen this?” Terzo turns slowly in his office chair, appraising the Sibling of Sin standing in front of him. He’s holding out a large, grey rock, dappled with holes and divots across the otherwise smooth surface. Papa reaches his hand out and snatches it from the Sibling, turning it over in his gloved hand. He cocks an eyebrow to the Sibling, a derisive smile across his painted face. 

“Am I supposed to be interested, child? You have brought me a glorified stone. Is this all you have to offer your Papa?” The Sibling clears their throat before addressing him again, nervousness palpable in their voice.

“Uh, well, you see um…”

“Speak, child. Children of Satan are confident, si?” 

“Right, yes. That rock is from the um. The moon.” The Sibling falls silent, scuffing their shoe on the stone floor momentarily before flicking their eyes back to Papa. He wears a look of confusion mixed with incredulousness.

“And where did you acquire… the moon?” Papa huffs a small laugh, turning the rock over again and inspecting it closer. “Sathanas may have answers, child, but He cannot bring us the stars. We know this.”

“No, Papa. Do you remember the lunar landing of 1969?” The Sibling’s words are rushed as they take a seat in front of Papa, clearly excited now. “America sent men to the moon, right? And they, well, they brought some stuff back with them! Moon sand, and some rocks and stuff! God, my dad used to tell me about it all the time! I was looking through the library, you know, stealing some stuff from Copia and looking at the artifacts. Well, in your brother’s area I found this. It was just locked up in a chest! No one was even looking at it! A piece of SPACE, Papa!” The Sibling has a bright grin on their face, practically bouncing in their seat. 

“So, let me get this correct, si? You went into my brother’s space.” Nod. “You found a rock.” Nod. “You /took/ the rock.” Nod. “And you know this rock to be of...the moon.” 

“Yes, Papa.” 

“So not only have you stolen from the Clergy, you are also bragging to me about your spoils?” Papa leans forward on his desk, propping his chin on his laced fingers. ONe side of his mouth twists upward into a coy smile. Trapping the Siblings was one of his favourite past-times since Secondo left for his tour with the Ghost project. 

“I…” The sibling snaps their mouth shut quickly before trying again. “That sounds correct, yes.” 

“Mhm. And what do you expect me to do about this?” The Sibling opens their mouth to respond before Papa cuts them off again. “I will tell you what I am going to do about this, child. I am confiscating the /rock/, and you can consider yourself under probation for the theft. Go do twenty Hail Lilith’s with the Cardinale and return to me.” He flaps a hand derisively towards the Sibling, sneering at them. “Dismissed.” 

\---- .5 Lunar Rotations Later----

The evening is dark, and cold. Papa lays outstretched on a dark blanket spread over the cold Earth, a small pillow bunched beneath his head. One arm lays comfortably across his own chest while the other holds a lit cigarette to his lips. Even without the smoke from the filter, his breath fogs in the air. He takes a long drag before blowing the smoke out of his nose, smiling softly to himself as it curls outward. He has to take time like this when he can, to be young.

“The moon, eh?” he mumbles to himself as he ashes his cigarette in the small ashtray at his side. He points the glowing ember of his cigarette upward, jabbing it accusingly towards the large white rock in the sky. “They say you are a woman, you know.” Papa takes another long drag from his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs. “And we came on you in 1969,” he says as he blows the smoke out finally.

The cold night air is only pierced by Papa’s high pitched laughter. Ever since Secondo left for tour, Terzo had taken it upon himself to be more carefree in his personal life. Now that his older brother wasn’t around to take care of him, he was able to do what he wanted in terms of free time. 

“Si, ‘69…” Papa trails off, looking at the cigarette in his hand before taking the last drag from it, stubbing it out in the ashtray. His two-toned eyes rove across the cosmos before landing once more on the moon. He sits up slightly and winces when his hip hits something hard.

Papa shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit pants, encountering the moon rock that he confiscated from the Sibling earlier that evening. He pulls it out and turns it over in his hands once more, bringing it closer to his face for more inspection. A quick thought enters his mind and he acts before he can double think it. Papa brings his hand to his lips quickly, biting and tugging his glove off and tossing it to the side.

He transfers the rock to his ungloved hand and squeezes it slightly, entranced by the gritty and hollow feeling of the object. Squeezing it tighter, he notes how resilient it is before he tosses it slightly, catching it deftly in the other hand.

“You’re tougher than I thought, for an old girl,” Papa says in the direction of the moon. He catches himself for a moment and shakes his head. What was he doing, talking to the sky? Lucifer hasn’t shown him that the moon possesses any sentience, and yet… the bare hand that touched the rock is tingling in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Not since his first blood ritual. 

He clenches his fist tighter around the rock and transfers it back to his bare hand, the spark that he thought he imagined coursing through his hand again. Papa sits up on his elbows quickly, scanning his surroundings before looking down his body again. Just as he thought; his cock was swelling out in the confines of his tight pants. With a groan he settles back onto the blanket and runs his still-gloved hand down his chest, knowingly teasing himself until he feels his erection filling out more.

“Sathanas, is this your will? The feeling I got from my first communion with you… Those sparks, I feel them again, si? Tell me your will.” Papa almost gasps as the warmth in his chest increases, the feeling spreading throughout his body as he clenches harder on the moon rock. As he clenches, his cock strains against the fabric of his pants. He scrabbles at the buttons and zipper to free himself, cock bouncing free quickly. Papa hisses in through his teeth as his cock hits the cold night air. 

He wastes no time in bringing his gloved hand to his mouth, quickly discarding that glove as well. Moving quickly now, he snakes his hand back down to his cock, gripping it tightly at the base and squeezing before stroking quickly up the shaft, his thumb alighting on the head and making him gasp inward. 

“Tell me,” he gasps, bringing the rock to his face and giving it a curious sniff as his other hand moves quicker on his cock. Papa presses his tongue to the rock before he can think better of it, the taste eliciting an electrical shock through his body as he does so. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears the low grumble of a ‘yes’. Taking this as a Satan-sent message, he doubles his motions on himself, stroking and squeezing his cock with abandon.

It’s been days since he’s done this, and he knows he won’t last long. Papa flicks his wrist over his cock quickly, his thumb pressing against the head and gathering the pre-cum with each stroke upwards. He presses the rock against his lips once more, tongue coming out to lathe against the sandy surface as he does so. With a particularly rough stroke his eyes fly open, locking onto the moon instantly. 

“Oh, shit,” he keens, his back bowing as he cums hard. Papa keeps his eyes on the lunar display as he does so, the hot ropes of cum shooting from his cock as if in an attempt to mark the moon itself with his lust. He shudders as he comes down from his high, his knees reflexively drawing in to his chest as he breathes deeply. Once he’s regained control of his senses he points upward at the moon, jabbing a finger towards it again. “This stays between us, okay, lady?”

Smiling at his own joke, Papa tucks his cock away and reaches for the cigarette pack beside him, contentedly lighting up a new cigarette and blowing a ring of smoke. 

He doesn’t fail to notice when the ring of smoke perfectly encapsulates the moon before flying away in the semblance of a wink.


End file.
